No Trauma No Drama

This is not a childhood love story.

This is not love at first sight.

This is not about a rich man falling for a poor woman.

This is a story of two people—

Who struggled alone.

Who built themselves alone.

Who became strong… without anyone beside them.

And when they finally meet—

They don’t fall in love.

They clash.

They oppose each other.

They hate each other at first sight.

But slowly…

They begin to understand.

They learn from each other.

And somewhere between anger and conflict—

Something deeper begins to grow.

My theory?

People who hate each other without knowing the truth…

Tend to fall the hardest once they do.

Their love won’t be soft.

It will burn in anger.

If someone dares to insult their partner—

They won’t stay silent.

They will tear that person apart.

Because their love will not be gentle.

It will be fierce.

—Your little author

Mika closed her diary slowly after writing.

Her fingers lingered on the page for a moment before she pulled her hand away. Her thoughts were still heavy, her heart even heavier.

“All people who fall in love…” she had written, “feel like the sky has fallen into their hands. Their eyes are blinded, butterflies fill their stomach, and they fight to stay together.”

She paused, remembering her next words.

“I respect those who stay together till the end… but those who end up in divorce… what kind of love was that?”

Her grip tightened slightly.

“You fight for your child’s custody… create chaos… and in the end, raise a child who no longer believes in love.”

A faint, bitter smile touched her lips.

“I am that child.”

“I don’t remember my parents’ love anymore. I forgot their warmth. The only person who ever truly loved me… is my grandfather.”

Her eyes softened.

“And because of him… I am still alive.”

“But now… I can’t even be with him.”

She had written letters every month.

But there was no reply.

No call.

No sign.

Tears slipped down her face silently.

She didn’t sob.

She couldn’t.

This was a place where even crying had limits.

“What kind of life is this…” she whispered to herself.

No visitors.

No calls.

No letters.

Only her… sending words into silence.

Her thoughts drifted home.

To her grandfather.

To their small village.

“I wonder how he manages the cows… the goats… the chickens…”

A soft smile appeared through her tears.

“And Piggy…”

Their dog.

Named Piggy because they never had pigs at home.

That memory felt warm.

Painfully warm.

“I miss home…”

The food.

The spice.

The life.

Here, everything felt bland.

Even the air.

But she had adapted.

To everything.

The pain.

The work.

The silence.

The loneliness.

Beating.

Crying.

Cleaning.

Cooking.

Gardening.

Sleeping.

Exercising.

During a routine check-up, the doctor frowned.

“Why are you pushing yourself so hard?” she asked gently. “Look at your hands… they’re injured. Your body is full of bruises.”

Mika said nothing.

She just smiled faintly.

“You should rest more,” the doctor insisted, applying ointment. “Take care of yourself.”

Mika nodded.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

As she turned to leave, the doctor hesitated.

“You… cut your hair?”

Mika paused for a second.

Then smiled lightly.

“It left me… without my knowledge.”

The doctor sighed.

“You poor child…”

Mika didn’t reply.

She simply walked away.

Back to the kitchen.

Back to reality.

She picked up a knife and began cutting onions.

Meanwhile, in China—

Zhang Linghe sat in his hospital room, eating porridge prepared by Secretary Lia.

His expression showed clear irritation.

He hated hospitals.

The smell.

The silence.

The lack of control.

Lia sprayed room freshener, trying to ease the discomfort.

But his sharp senses caught every mixed scent.

His irritation only grew.

If it wasn’t for the double salary, I would have never taken this job, Lia thought to herself.

I have to be fast. On time. Carry everything. Tolerate his temper…

She sighed internally.

I don’t even have time for myself.

Will I ever date someone?

She paused.

No… at this rate, I’ll end up a middle-aged single woman.

Then she straightened herself mentally.

No. I’ll resign one day. Even if the salary is less… I want my own life.

“Lia.”

His voice cut through her thoughts.

“Yes, sir.”

“I want water.”

She handed him a glass.

“Ice water.”

She forced a polite smile.

“Of course, sir.”

As she stepped out of the room, she muttered under her breath—

“Here we go again…”

🔥

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